A Time to Grow: Exit Gracefully & Carry On

Just write.

Sometimes those are the words that I have to begin with. So here it goes…

The other day I felt led to respond to a Facebook group discussion about whether or not “beliefs” belong in a medical setting. The author of the discussion was simply asking for recommendations for a Christian therapist for her child, but the post had taken another turn, as they so often do. A woman representing herself as a medical provider responded to this mother’s request with the following:

“Religion does not make a practitioner more competent… I’m a medical provider and it would make me very uncomfortable to discuss my beliefs with a client… That’s not why I’m there. It’s not about me or my beliefs. It’s about helping the person that has come to me for a cure.”

Now, I want to make a clarification right up front here. My response was not a rebuttal to her viewpoint, but simply another side, another perspective and opinion, from another medical provider, my husband, to help this fellow mama in what was likely a stressful and difficult time.

I responded to the post, reassuring the mother that not all providers feel uncomfortable discussing their beliefs. I wanted her to know that there are options in the medical community to find someone who is open to those discussions and has a shared feeling of their importance in the healing space.

Further, I shared that she was not alone. I, too, had sought out therapy and felt it was a huge (game-changing) help when I found a provider that welcomed such deep discussions about the power and love of the beautiful God that we serve. You see, it was not a matter of competence for me. It was a comfort, a personal preference, and a feeling of being able to openly share personal God experiences both ways and feel deeply understood. Finally, it was a shared drive to push towards the goal of healing hand-in-hand with the One True Healer. And friends, that’s exactly what I needed in my most broken season and perhaps she did as well.

There is a beauty to be found in diversity in any occupation. Such differences allow for patients to choose what they personally want and need in their own medical provider. But likewise, it’s also okay for this mother to seek out a provider that is comfortable with sitting in a room with her and talking about God or sitting in a quiet moment of prayer, seeking His heart together. And that is what my husband has done, many times over, with his patients. And let me tell you, many times over… the God of the impossible has shown up.

Her response was not exactly subtle. She used a lot of verbosity. We will leave her motives to her, but she told me that she can pray for people and “still not talk about (herself)… No one seems to care what I do on Sunday.” She brought up things like ethics and professional boundaries, licensure, protecting one’s career, protecting one’s family, and more. And as her response ran up my spine and threatened to move me to react, I suddenly felt a peace break through the moment and begin to run down it. God’s peace. I leaned into His outpouring and allowed my heart to calm. Then, when I was ready, my hands once again moved across the keyboard as I simply and courteously exited the conversation in grace. His grace.

The truth was, no matter how I felt in the moment, my place in this space and my words in this post, well, none of it was about her. It was about a mother who needed something special for her child, and maybe for herself. And I had shared what God pressed. I didn’t need to defend my Father. I had already shared His love and encouragement. The Holy Spirit had moved. The work was done. And all that remained was my own personal desire to prove my point.

You see, I wanted so badly to tell her how God had used a medical provider and an everyday clinic visit to give a woman a very special gift a few years back. That this patient wrote a letter to that same provider a month later and said that five years after the passing of her son, she had felt God’s peace entering her heart with that gift. That the gift was more than a wood cross, but a divine message of His love that she needed so badly in her season of brokenness.

I wanted to tell her how that same provider, in another everyday clinic visit, had removed his cross necklace and given it to an addict. The necklace that he had purchased after the passing of his mother and never once removed because of what it symbolized. And how with God’s nudge, he passed it to this patient headed for rehab. How this patient called back a year later to tell him what that little action meant and how God had used it to help him on his journey.

I wanted to tell her about how this provider had sat in a room and prayed for a patient with seemingly no viable treatment options, thinking it would be his last visit with her and he was actually saying goodbye. How within a few months, this same patient was walking through his door with a new smile because divine opportunities had opened up and she had not only been miraculously placed on a transplant list but had already been through surgery and was on the recovery side.

And these are just the “wow, God!” moments. What about all of the other moments when that shared appointment between the provider, the patient, and God poured peace, hope, reassurance, love, grace, and encouragement into the patient and provider alike? What about the tears, the rest, and the deep heartfelt transformations that had occurred between those walls? What about the moments that sat between the Holy Spirit and the patient, going unwitnessed by anyone else but equally as powerful and life-changing?

What about the calling that my husband feels in every fiber of his being that he is right where God wants him to be and God is using him every day to move mountains, shake the Kingdom, and share His power and His love with the hurting?

How can you possibly see all of that and say that Jesus belongs in a church on Sunday and not in your every moment of every day? How can you really believe that? How can you say to that grieving mom, that addict, that transplant patient that Jesus didn’t belong in that exam room because of professional boundaries, ethics, licensure, and protecting one’s career?

If I’m being honest, the more that I chewed on her words later that day, the more that my heart began to turn to anger. I looped back to the post over and over with each new response in the feed showing up in my notifications and I wanted so badly to just write my rebuttal, proving my point and defending my position. I grew more and more frustrated because I truly couldn’t understand why God had pressed on me to stay silent. And my husband knew it too. After sharing the details of what had transpired, he asked me continually that night if it was still bothering me, knowing it was. And then, he said something so touching and so true. And with his words, God worked in a lesson for my heart. Here is what he said…

“Shannon, that’s because the what (you) do on Sunday God isn’t limited to Sunday and neither is (your) praise.”

You see, Jesus isn’t just a sidebar detail of my life. He is my life.

He isn’t just someone my husband visits with on Sunday, squeezing Him in for a day in between his busy work week and patient visits. He is the drive behind his every day. He is the calling behind every time that patient exam room door opens and he walks into a room.

And while we don’t share our beliefs and faith in Him, our deep devotion and love for Him, to call attention or praise to ourselves, we DO intentionally greet each and every day as an opportunity to move fluidly with the Holy Spirit. To ebb and flow where he takes us. To be used by Him. To follow His lead. And to go where He calls.

And the simple truth behind my anger is that I don’t like people telling me where Jesus belongs in my life. I don’t like people implying that I should box Him up on the weekdays and set Him on the shelf like a nice pair of shoes and then pull Him out on Sunday again to wear Him for the right time and place. Because, my friends, people need Jesus every day. When we box him up, when we limit him, we are robbing people of divine moments created in the greatest love that they could ever know. Hurting people. Broken people. Me. You. So many. We can be used every single day to bring His message of love and hope to someone who desperately needs it right now. I’ve seen it. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. And I feel so strongly in my defense of this, in my passion for this, that my pride roars with need to argue my position; to prove my correctness.

And that’s exactly where God met me and drew me into the following passage:

“All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this. They got up, drove (Jesus) out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.” (Luke 4:28-30)

He didn’t defend himself.

He didn’t defend His father.

He didn’t feel the need to argue, react, perform a miracle, or prove anything (because we all know that he could have).

He just “went on his way.”

Oh, Jesus.

I want to pause here and share a recent personal journal entry with you:

“I am hungry for growth. Ravenous, really. I want more Jesus. I want more experiences. I want to be stretched, wild and crazy, and on-fire. Is it realistic to think that I can live in His glory day in and day out? I want to spend every moment of my life in that space. It’s time. In the Bible, there is a time to plant and a time to harvest, but in between, there is… a time to grow.”

I wrote that entry a few weeks back and I’ve been praying over that growth a lot lately. Teach me, God. Teach me. Teach me how to create space in the chaos. Teach me how to rest in your peace. Teach me how to not just crave the intimacy with you but actually make that intimacy a priority in my life. Teach me how to hear your voice and your heart in every circumstance. Teach me how to listen for your divine wisdom. Teach me how to grow.

And when I paused to truly create space for Him to do just that, here’s what I learned in the situation above:

When I come face to face with what’s at the root of my need to defend my position, I begin to realize that I’m doing it for… drumroll please… myself. If the Father didn’t need Jesus to defend Him in Nazareth, then why would He need Shannon to do it on Facebook? (Go ahead… I’m laughing right along with you.) I am placed here to follow His calling to love. To listen for His nudges to encourage and uplift. To share when He presses. And unless He moves me to do otherwise, I am here to give grace in those moments when my pride seeks everything but.

I am here to serve His Kingdom… not mine.

And it’s a gentle but difficult reminder for this girl. The truth is, when I feel this strongly about something, I can back up facts and key points so fast that even my high school debate teacher said that I should pursue a career in law. But if I want to grow, my friends, I have to be willing to listen…

To follow and to know that He will provide all I need. I don’t have to be wrong. But I don’t have to be right either. I just have to be… for Him… whatever He calls me to be in the moment. Even if that means exiting gracefully and walking away. And I have to trust, wholly, in His plan and know that when He calls us to do the difficult, there’s always a reason. Maybe I needed to be reminded of the hard lesson, dying to self. Or maybe someone else just needed a little extra grace that day. Whatever the reason, He is calling me to follow His voice and I know that my peace, my joy, and my hope is always found in following His lead, not mine.

So, keep doing what you’re doing, friends. Keep following His calling. Keep sharing His love. And when people tell you where Jesus belongs in your life, just whisper a prayer, open your heart for His outpouring and His divine wisdom, walk through the crowd, and go on your way. Shake it off, give grace, then shine bright for Him!

Don’t let the enemy use someone else’s words to tempt you into a heart shift and blurred focus; one that leads you into a relentless and unbending pursuit of your own goals and purpose. But instead, be continually mindful of leaning into the calling, purpose, voice, heart, and movement of the One who sees, the One who knows, and the One who carries you through. Through the crowd. Through the situation. Through the temptation. Through the lesson. Just… through.

A Time to Grow, my friends. Maybe the title of my next book… coming soon!

Have a beautiful and blessed day!

– Shannon